


Father Figure

by AraSigyrn



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-movie, written for a prompt on the anon meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father Figure

Alan will say later, smiling and tolerant, that it's a miracle Sam didn't punch the ER security guard.

Sam will remember the taste of terror and rage in the back of his throat, how he'd had to hear from Zack of all people because Dillenger didn't want the demonstration disturbed and think that the real miracle is that he didn't kill the stupid overweight rent-a-cop for not getting the fuck out of his way fast enough.

Zack had already filled out most of the paperwork, probably better than Sam could have and Sam hates it. He hates himself for being jealous and tries not to imagine how, if Zack hadn't needed to check for a DNR, Sam might not have found out about the heart attack until Monday morning.

The duty nurse calls police because Sam looks like a madman, eyes wide and nostrils flared and he can't spare the attention to tell her he's not actually a madman. He feels mad, terrified and raging and so far past caring what he looks like to these people. He shoves past her, doesn't even slow down for the big burly orderly because Sam is a man with a fucking mission here. By the time Officer Trent - Davy, who thinks Sam's a messed up but well-meaning kid - shows up, Sam has found Alan.

Alan looks...god, Alan looks old for the first time and Sam only vaguely registers Zack hovering by his bed. Alan's eyes open when Sam barges into the room and he smiles under the oxygen mask. He can't quite muster the strength to lift his hand more than a few wobbly inches off the bed.

Alan's always had the steadiest hands. They built boats together every month and sailed them in the lake in the summer and Sam remembers those hands flying across the keyboard while Alan demonstrated good coding principles and inserted tart comments into Sam's frequently sloppy code.

Sam skids to a stop at the side of the bed, hands fluttering in the air between them as he tries to shape his jumbled chaotic thoughts into words. The world is broken and spinning out of place. _System crash_ , Sam thinks hysterically. He's aware of Zack easing back a step but not leaving and he wants to throw the guy out. Fuck what his dad - dads - thought of the guy. He's here and Sam doesn't want him to be.

Alan, careful, sensible Alan who eats smart and exercises, is lying in a hospital bed because he had a heart attack.

Sam can't even begin to comprehend how this has happened.

Alan has been the bedrock of Sam's life just like he was for Kevin Flynn, the solid durable base that Sam can fall back on. He's not supposed to be here, not supposed to so suddenly, shockingly old and Sam looks at Alan's white hair and tries to remember when it stopped being brown. Sam's prom? His graduation? Wandering around the university campus, jittery and nervous? Sam's first ENCOM prank? His fiftieth?

He had all those plans, freshly back from the Grid and he can remember it so clearly that he can practically taste the dust in the air. His father who had immolated himself and CLU so Sam could escape behind him and his dad, grey and weary in the old arcade at four thirty in the morning because Sam might need him in front of him.

All those wasted years, Sam thinks. They'd drifted apart; his fault, not Alan's. He'd resented Alan for being able to live like there wasn't a sucking hole in his heart, nearly hated him for it.

Alan doesn't flinch when Sam presses his face into Alan's unbuttoned shirt, cheek against the wires and the hiss of oxygen over his head. Alan just reaches up, breathing in with a slow rasp that makes Sam's heart clench in terror, as he strokes a hand through Sam's hair like he's ten years old and having nightmares again.

"Guess it's up to you now," Alan says soft and proud like Sam isn't the guy that crashed and burned out of college, sulked for twenty years because his daddy didn't come home. Alan's always believed in Sam enough for them both.

"No, no," Sam shakes his head and his hands clutch at the pebbly hospital blanket across Alan's legs. "No, no way, man. You don't get to ditch me."

"I'm not ditching you," Alan smooths Sam's hair fussily; he always likes things to be neat and Sam's heart hurts. "Just recognising that it's time to pass on the torch. Like your dad did."

"No, no, no," Sam is crying, snotty-nosed and wailing like the kid he's only just starting to outgrow. "No, Alan, no."

Zack slips out and he's waiting for Sam in the corridor outside when the specialist arrives, fidgeting with his shirt sleeves. When he looks at Sam, he looks completely different and Sam can see 'Ram' in the way he squares his shoulders.

"He'll go back, you know," Zack's voice is an accusation. "If you ask him, he'll go back and he'll die in that fishbowl office."

"I can't do this," Sam waves his hands to indicate ENCOM, the restructure and the whole stinking mess. "Not without him."

Zack looks at him for a long second and shakes his head. "One way or another, you're going to have to."


End file.
